


Burn This Out

by AshenArrow



Category: Original Work
Genre: A different kind tho, Affection, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bisexual Male Character, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Coming Out, Dystopia, F/M, First Dates, Forbidden Love, Future, High School, Love, M/M, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Prom, Romance, Science Fiction, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Touch-Starved, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenArrow/pseuds/AshenArrow
Summary: Far off in the future is a time where displays and acts of affection are severely frowned upon. People turned their backs on any form of it in exchange for technological advances and efficiency.





	1. The Wrong Stop

Sometime in the very far past, humanity began to shift farther and farther away from love and affection. Life became more about work and efficiency. People became obsessed with evolution and productivity. Things like marriage, love, and comfort became such a rarity until it went entirely extinct. Displays of affection, public or otherwise, are highly frowned upon in society.

I was far too young to witness this shift in human behavior. In fact, I wasn't even alive at the point and neither were my parents. My grandparents were, though. Whenever we visit Grandma for every other Christmas she greets each of us kids with a big, warm hug. My mom stutters and stammers protests at her mother. My older brother and younger sister practically fight the elderly woman off. I always return it, though, wrap my arms tight around her neck and savor it with the awareness that it'll be my last hug for another two years.

There are always that small majority of populations that go against the grain. I'm part of this minority despite my parents' guidance. I have a feeling that the way they raised me has nothing to with the way I am, it's just a defect in my personality. Being like me, someone who craves human contact and love, is not made easier by being surrounded by a family that is not the slightest bit willing to assisting me to indulge in what I desperately need. The world is a cold place, now, and this is something I accepted when I was very young.

As far as I can tell, many things about now are the same as they were my grandparents were my age. Teenagers go to school and get their licenses and go to college for ridiculous fees for tuition. People marry and have kids. The entertainment industry thrives and the medicine and technology areas continue to make new advances each year.

For the entirety of my life, I have completely and utterly alone. There has been a constant itch on my skin that nothing seems to be able to scratch. I sink in and out of depression for months at a time. Life drags on with me kicking and screaming. Nothing ever changes, no one ever surprises me. Every day is the same, wake up, go to school, take the bus home, homework, sleep, repeat.

Well.

Every day was the same, for so long, until today. I made small, simple mistake by taking the wrong bus and ended up in the part of downtown that every adult warns against going near. There's never been a particular reason for their severe cautioning, only that things just 'aren't right' down here. I can't seem to find anything significantly wrong.

I'm standing at the bus stop next to the sign, waiting for the bus to make its rounds so I can get on and drag myself home. I'll be late but mom won't care; she's almost happy to have me out of the house as much as possible. I guess you could call me the disappointment of the family due to my obsolete instincts.

I am standing slumped against the metal pole of the sign when I see it, a glimpse of what our parents warn against so vehemently. There, across the street from me and in plain view, walks what looks for all things in the universe like a couple. This wouldn't be particularly alarming had it not been for the hands between them, one held tightly in the other. It's casual, they're not holding onto to each other for dear life or anything, but it's incredibly startling in the black and white that the world is for me. Two people exchanging a gesture of affection and comfort.

If it had been anyone else in my family they would have shouted some slur across to them and possibly even confronted them. Luckily for me I've stolen the title of black sheep of the family so all I do is stare in blatant awe.

"Shocking, hm?" a voice startles me enough that I nearly fall over.

Whipping around I come to face a guy in a zipped up hoodie and faded, dark jeans. He's wearing a crooked smile on his lips. He doesn't even look all that older than me, maybe a couple of years at most.

"What?" I bite back, catching my breath slightly.

"That," he repeats, pointing at the couple nearing the edge of our vision, "Shocks you, right?" he smiles again.

"Yeah," I nod back, "D-disgusting." I stammer, and, oh, no, that doesn't sound the least bit convincing.

His face twists into a knowing expression and he laughs lightly.

"You don't really think that," he says matter-of-factly, "You're like us."

"Like 'us'?" I repeat back, staring at him full in the face.

"Yeah, come on, now, don't play dumb," he crosses his arms, "You crave the touch of another." he speaks the last part like one would iterate a wise proverb.

"No, no I don't." I shake my head.

All my life I was conditioned by my parents to act normal. They didn't want me to embarrass them in public or in front of their friends. If anyone in school found out that I was one of those weirdos who wished that someone would just hug them every once in a while, my parents' and our family's life would be essentially over in today's public eye.

"Okay," he nods, clearly unconvinced, "If you change your mind, I have an apartment on Cherry Street. 22C. No code, just knock." he winks and then he's gone, waltzing off down the sidewalk away from me.

Once he rounds the corner at the end of the street I get a strange feeling in my stomach. By the time the bus pulls onto the other end of the street and is moving towards me there's a restless knot in my stomach. I'm torn between giving in and going to find the guy or ignoring everything he said to me, no matter the way it spoke to my inner wants.

I make a split second decision. The bus is only a few feet away from the stop when my feet move into motion, turning me around and away from the street. I speed-walk down the pavement, away from the bus that I had spent nearly an hour waiting, and follow the direction the guy had gone not too long ago.


	2. 22C Cherry Street

There is only one apartment building on Cherry Street. I let myself into the lobby through the front door and take the elevator up to the third floor. The carpet of the hallway of apartment on looks old and has probably been with the building for a long time. I fly past apartments until a worn gold 22C plaque enters my vision.

I stop and stand in front of the door, suddenly unsure of myself. This entire idea was outrageous and is definitely potentially dangerous. I should just turn around and leave now while I still have the chance.

I knock, instead, just like the rational being I am. He doesn't come to the door for a few beats in which I contemplate running and pulling a full on ding-dong-ditch. Finally the door swings open and there is the guy from before, a knowing and somewhat smug grin gracing his lips.

"I knew it," he says matter-of-factly, "I'm never wrong, you know." he brags. I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," I nod in appeasement, "Can we please go inside or something? I don't wanna be found out." he steps aside to let me into the apartment and shuts the door securely behind me.

"You don't want to be found out, or is your family?" he says suddenly and the words startle me.

I hug my arms around my middle and shrug noncommittally.

"I don't know," I reply, "I've never heard of people being open about being Affection Seeking." I confess and shrug again.

Being Affection Seeking is like almost how being gay was like all those years ago. I only hear this from my grandparents, of course, but my grandmother told me a time where orientations like that were heavily frowned upon for a long time. It wasn't socially acceptable for a long time, even illegal at a point, and even when the idea became more acceptable people still had to fight for rights and talk down bigots. Coming out as someone who sought out affection and love is essentially social suicide in today's day and age.

"You're in a different place than your safe home bubble," he says with a softer smile than before, "People are different around here. It's why all of you kiddos are warned away from venturing down here, which makes me curious. How did you end up here?" I shift from foot to foot.

"I took the wrong bus." I say and almost laugh myself at the absurdity of everything so far.

I had taken the wrong bus and instead of waiting and getting on the next one like a good little girl I wandered off to this stranger's apartment.

"Well, not how people normally find this place, but it's good you did," he tilts his head to the side and studies my face carefully, "You haven't been dealing with this on your own all your life, have you?" he inquires.

"Yeah, of course I have," I spit back, "Mom and dad don't believe in stuff like that."

"They never even humored you or anything? At least when you were little?" he continues and an icy chill courses down my spine.

Childhood is exceptionally rougher than those who are naturally affection repulsed. My life as a kid was misery for many years until I finally got old enough to understand that the things I wanted weren't what the rest of the world did, that it made me weird and no good because I wanted it. My parents never gave in to my constant pleas even as a little little kid and my siblings looked at me strange for even asking. It all came so naturally to the rest of them and they still don't understand why I've been so off my entire life.

"No," I shake my head, feeling strangely cornered, "Nothing. It got to the point where I was punished for just asking. So I stopped." I explain it like it's no big deal because others like me should have similar experiences as I've had, right?

His face betrays his surprise before he get a decent hold on it. I saw it, though, even if it was for only a brief second. What I just described to him was most certainly not normal.

"No one's touched you for that long? Hugged you, held your hand?" his words send a pang through my stomach for something I never had the opportunity to have.

"My grandma hugged me every two years. When we went over for Christmas," I remember suddenly, "That was it, though. We stopped going six years ago when my mom and her had a falling out." Now that I think about it, the falling out was probably about the hugs themselves; my mother had never agreed with my grandmother's ways.

"That's...I think that qualifies as abuse," he says quietly, "They're supposed to provide you with at least the minimum when you're really young like that." he paces closer and now we're only a few feet apart.

There's a long pause of silence and it continues even as the guy I don't even know moves closer and then looks me carefully in the face for any sign of panic before slowing wrapping his arms around me. I stand stiff for a few seconds, shocked by the sudden contact. He's so warm and he smells like aftershave and I never want him to let go.

I relax slowly and it's so nice. Ridiculous tears well in my eyes and I press my face carefully into his sweater. I'm sure he can feel them soaking through the fabric but he doesn't say anything. I drag my arms up from where they've been hanging frigidly at my sides and clasp my hands together against his back.

We stand like that for a long time as if he's trying to make up for all the years I've been without this touch that my entire being has craved since I was born. There's a phrase used with Affection Seekers, touch-starved, and I finally understand what it means.

He starts to pull back and a shock of panic shoots through me. I grab onto his jacket before he can move too far and a strange noise escapes my throat in protest. He turns back with a genuinely sad expression and curls around so he can grasp my hands in his. He catches me eyes with his and doesn't let go.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says firmly, "I'm going to make some hot chocolate and then, if you want, we can curl up and watch TV for as long as you need." he doesn't say 'as you long as you want' because at this point it feels like a necessity, like I'll combust if he gives me that and then leaves me on my own all over again.

"I don't...this is crazy, I don't even know your name, though." I stammer back.

"I'm Hudson, and you?" he replies.

"Jacey." I reply.

"Well, Jacey, now we know each other's names," he pauses, "I know this is weird, like we're suddenly friends and all, but people like us gotta stick together. If you want, that is." he adds the end.

"Okay, yeah," I nod, "Yes." I agree.

"Alright, I'm going to let go and make drinks. You can turn the TV on and pull the blankets off the back of the couch." he says slowly and I don't want to let go but I can recognize that he isn't disappearing forever on me.

"Okay." I agree.

He lets go slowly and then turns away into the kitchen. I stand in the same spot and wait to move until I hear the clinking of what must be ceramic mugs. I finally move, pull the three blankets that are folded neatly over the back of the couch and fumbling with the remote until I find the power button. A reality show flicks on and I place the remote back on the coffee table. I tentatively sink into the couch, pushing the blankets to the side.

He comes back a few minutes and places the mugs on the coffee table in front of us. One is a mug shaped like Pooh from Winnie the Pooh and the other a plain white one with a ladybug on it. How adorable.

I watch as he gets settled and finally sits down beside me on the couch. There's still space between us and it feels like a mile. He glances at me briefly, me, watching his every move like I'm afraid if I don't he'll disappear into thin air.

"Come here." he says, opening his arms slightly as he leans sideways into the couch's armrest, "I don't bite." he jokes.

I snort but move closer. I'm not used to anything like this at all and it's obvious he can tell. He arranges me this way and that until I'm sitting between his legs, back against his chest. He tosses a large blanket over us and he guides me so I'm actually leaning back into him.

It's all very strange. I'm not accustomed to constant touch or leaning into someone and not expecting them to shove me away. My hands shake slightly where they're clasped tightly in my lap.

"I don't...I don't know how to do this." I stammer pathetically.

"That's okay," he reassures behind me, chest rumbling with his voice, "It takes a while after being touch-starved for so long and you...well, you never had anything unlike most others so unfortunately it's probably a little worse for you." he explains quietly and I can tell that when he says 'a little' he means 'very much a lot'.

I nod my head and don't say anything because it seems that my throat has closed up.

"Hey," he murmurs, taking my shaking hands in his, "It's okay, you know? No one here's going to do anything."

"I'm sorry," I reply and my teeth are practically chattering, "It's-It's basically conditioned into me. To-to expect repercussions. I keep expecting someone to appear and beat the shit out of me for this." I confess quietly, squeezing his hands back like they're my only lifeline.

"Has that happened to you before?" he says, angry disbelief evident in his voice.

"When I was younger." is all I say in explanation, "It's the way the world is, Hudson. We're not supposed to act they way we do." I try to justify my own family's actions even though I know they were wrong.

"That's no excuse to hurt your kids," he argues back, pulling me closer, "There's a law in place for a reason, the one for the Affection Seekers as kids. Parents are supposed to provide at least the bare minimum until they turn five." he practically growls.

I snort at the unfairness of it all.

"Nobody follows that law," I reply, "And nobody enforces it. The only time it's investigated is if a young kid tries to kill themself." I point out.

"I don't want to upset you, Jacey, but everybody I've met who's like us was given at least a hug every day until they reached the minimum age," he informs me, "It's the only reason they stayed sane." he adds gently.

"Well I'm here and I'm okay." I argue back stubbornly.

I know that what I experienced as a little little kid wasn't common practice. I should have gotten something at such a young age, anything, no matter how minimal it was. Instead, I got nothing. There's been an empty part of me my entire life, a piece of my missing, and I didn't know what it was until I learned about the laws and regulations. I'm missing the affection that my faulty personality craves.

"You've never been hospitalized?" he questions in what I know is a roundabout way of asking whether I've tried to kill myself or not.

"I thought it was normal, not getting what I wanted as a little little kid," I say instead, "I didn't realize. I didn't know about the law until middle school history class."

That particular history class lesson was six years ago. The year was going as any regular school year would, the basic American history, until we reached the chapter about the war on affection.

"I went home the day we reached the affection war chapter and swallowed all of my mom's sleeping pills," I confess softly, "I was only eleven so they did an investigation but it lasted a week and didn't lead to anything, so, there's your stupid fucking law." I hiss out.

Hudson doesn't say anything.

"I didn't think anyone actually followed that law. I had no way of knowing. When they investigated and didn't help me I figure that's what always happens." I explain further, playing with his fingers.

"I'm sorry they put you through that," he whispers into my neck which sends shivers shooting down my spine, "I'm glad you know that they were wrong, though. You needed someone to validate you, I can tell."

"Thank you." I say, voice wobbly.

"Don't thank me." he insists.

We lay there for a while. The hot chocolate he made sits there for long enough untouched that it goes cold but neither of us are particularly worried about it. The TV murmurs on a low volume, a cooking show hosted by some zesty guy in his mid-twenties. I watch lazily, floating in a haze of comfort. It's as if there's no bones in my body and Hudson is there holding me up from melting onto the floor like some sad snowman.

It's calm.


	3. In A Time Before

I fall asleep at some point and wake up to someone poking me in the nose. I think that it's one of my siblings poking me awake for dinner. They never go far beyond poking, really, not unless we're in a fight. Hitting doesn't involve affection.

My nose scrunches up. I'm not hungry at all. I'm also not in the mood to deal with family right now. I open my eyes anyway to shoo whichever kid it is and startle to find that's it none of them but a guy. Right. Hudson.

I scramble up the second my eyes land on the sky outside the window. It's dark and there are stars in the sky. Shit. My parents are going to kill me.

"I have to go, oh my God." I gasp out, pulling at my hair.

Hudson jumps up and smooths his hands down my arms, pulling my fingers out of my hair.

"Relax," he soothes, "I'll drive you, okay?"

"You will?" I blurt back, curling a fist into his t-shirt.

"Yeah." he nods and smiles at me.

He moves to let go and I panic, tugging back with wild eyes.

"We gotta get you home, Jacey," he reasons, "I'm sorry." he adds, sympathy flooding his blue irises.

"But-" I begin to protest before I finally get a handle on my head, "Right." I let go of his shirt and step away, looking down at the floor.

I expect him to move away, get his keys so he can finally get the nutcase that is me out of his apartment for good. I wouldn't blame him, from what we discussed before I fell asleep I do sound like a total headcase. He doesn't go anywhere, though, I can still see his socked feet.

"Jacey." he says.

"Will I see you again?" I force myself to say.

This shocks a laugh out of him. Okay. I get it. He does think I'm a headcase, I'm not even surprised.

"Only if you want to." he says instead.

"Really?" I squeak, my head snapping up to look at him.

"Yeah. This sounds like a cliche from twenty-first century teenage novels, but you're not like the others I've met. Not just because of your parents. You're different, Jacey, and that's a good thing." he replies with a tragically beautiful smile.

He holds out a hand.

"Phone." he orders and I fumble around in my pockets until I find it.

Ignoring the multiple texts and two missed calls, I unlock it and hand it to him. He types some stuff and then takes his own out, typing some there, as well. He hands mine back to me.

"Now we can talk to each other and you can reach me." he smiles again.

I look down. He put a new contact into my phone, his number under his name. I smile slightly and then check my texts. They're varying degrees of 'where are you' and 'you're going to miss dinner'. Whoops.

I turned eighteen a month ago and I'm graduating in two so it's not like my parents can legally keep my home. They're having a hard time accepting this fact and are cracking down harsher than they ever have before. It's ridiculous, really.

"Oh, man," I say, "I should really get home."

"Let's go, then." he smirks and I follow him to the door where he scoops up a set of car keys and then sweeps me out of the door.

I'm not entirely sure what type of car I was expecting Hudson to drive, but a sleek black 69' camaro was not it. I was must have stared for a moment too long because Hudson chuckles slightly as he moves around to the driver's side.

"My dad left it to me before he died." he says fondly, "He had lung cancer. Died when I was sixteen." he explains, unlocking the door and sitting behind the wheel.

He leans over and pops the lock on the passenger side. I let myself in and sit down beside him, shutting the door carefully. The turns the key and the engine roars to life. We pull out of the parking garage below the apartment complex onto the city street.

I give him quiet directions to my house. Anxiety is slowly setting into my bones once more the closer we get there. He must be able to tell because at one point he takes my hand with the one he's not using to steer. I send him a tired smile in thanks even though I know it'll never be enough.

He pulls up at my house and I huff as he puts the camaro in park. He turns to me slightly and I curl his hand into me. I don't want to let go, to go back into that house and have to pretend that living there doesn't make me want to scream.

"I know we really don't know each other very well," he begins, "but we can still be there for each other." he finishes and I nod silently.

"Do you do this often?" I murmur, "Pick up people who find themself in the scary downtown and cuddle them into submission on your couch because they've been suppressing their need for touch their entire lives?" I continue.

His thumb strokes across the top of my hand.

"No," he shakes his head, "A few before you. Two of them were guys. They came back to my place and we played video games after exchanging hugs and such. A girl who tried to hook up with me, I put a quick end to that." he huffs a laugh out.

"Why'd you turn her down?" I questions.

"I didn't want to take advantage of her like that. When you come out of years without any contact, jumping to sex isn't the right step." he explains, shrugging his shoulders.

"Are you still friends with them?" I wonder aloud, tilting my head slightly.

"The girl, no. One guy, Tony, ended up moving into my building last year. We're best friends. The other one, Jose, he's in college but he's managed to get himself a secret AS boyfriend." he lists, 'AS' for Affection Seekers.

"That's cool." I nod my head.

"They'd like you, you know. Everyone in the neighborhood probably would." he remarks.

A smile pulls on my lips.

"I have to go." I say finally, letting his hand go and grabbing the door handle.

"Then go," he replies, "I'll be here when you come looking, promise." he promises.

My eyes water slightly as my head twitches in a minute nod. I open the door and step out onto the dark street. I send one more look into the car at the guy who managed to turn my entire life upside down in a span of twelve hours.

"I'll be seeing you around, Hudson." I smile.

"Back at you, Jace." I shut the door and step away from the car.

With a final wave, Hudson puts the car in drive and pulls away. My house looms before me. The porch light is on which is a warning sign in itself. My parents will be up and awake awaiting my arrival home, quite probably to grill me about where I was and who I was with.

I sigh and walk the few steps up the paved path. I climb the bricked stairs and use my house key to unlock the front door.

I was right. Mom is sitting on the couch knitting away and dad is in the armchair, his laptop on his lap with the screen illuminating his face. They both look up when I step inside and I can see the simmering rage.

I force myself to calmly shut the door and lock it behind me. I tuck the gold key back into my jeans and shove my hands into my hoodie's pocket.

"Nice of you to finally come home, Jacey," my mother says lowly, "Where have you been?"

"At a friend's," I reply, "we were working on a science project and lost track of time." I lie smoothly and hope that she bites.

"I don't believe you." she hisses, setting her knitting aside.

"I don't have any other explanation for you, mom," I shrug my shoulders, "and I'm eighteen, I'm an adult."

"Well, you still have a curfew, Jacey." she retorts.

"Yeah, it's at eleven. It's ten forty-five." I cross my arms over my chest in annoyance.

"Don't talk back to me." she exclaims, jumping to her feet.

"Now, Margaret." my dad starts.

"No, Daniel, your daughter is out there doing God knows what and you're just okay with it? She's disrespecting me and you're not even bothered by it?" she shouts, grabbing one of his shoulders and shaking it.

"Woah, better be careful, mom," I chide, "you wouldn't want people think you're a Symp."

My mother rears back as from my father to face me with a look of more anger and disgust than I've ever seen on her. She strikes me across the face and I go flying back into the door, textbooks digging into my back as I land. I stare up at her and hold my cheek in slight shock.

"Don't you ever imply I'm one of those things you filthy brat." she shouts, face red with anger and inches from mine.

"Margaret." my dad says for where he hasn't moved from his armchair.

My oldest brother, Jake, appears at the bottom of the stairs and takes in the scene. Me, crumbled against the front door on the floor with a glowing red cheek. My mother, red faced with anger and disbelief as she stares down at me with wild eyes. My father, still seated in the armchair, hardly concerned with his wife's actions.

That's the thing about non-AS people, the majority of the world's population. They hardly bear any emotions besides anger and indifference. Sympathy is viewed as affection and avoided so much that a shortened version of the word is a slur. Everyone is so numb to the violence that nobody does anything or reacts to it.

Jake races forward and helps me up. I stand on shaking legs and let him pull me towards the stairs. He lets go of me the minute we reach the top and turns to say something to me. I duck around him and head toward my room.

I rip my backpack off and fling to the opposite side of the room. I rip the hoodie off of myself and sit down on my bed, breathing heavily. I'm nearing a panic attack and everything suddenly feels so out of my reach.

I don't expect Jake to follow me into my room but he does. He shuts the door to my bedroom and for a minute I think he's going to berate me just like my mom did downstairs. He kneels down in front of me instead and makes abortive moves to take my hands into his.

Jake is the first born out of all five of us. I was right after him, then Daisy, then Graham, and finally the youngest, Ashlyn. Jake was the one in my family who tried to understand the way I thought. He clearly doesn't really get it, none of them do, but at least he has made an effort at it.

In a time before mine, long before, an older brother would know how to comfort his distressed younger sister just by instinct. Now, though, Jake struggles to understand exactly what he should be doing.

He finally takes my hands and makes a face that I can't place before steeling himself and barreling on.

"Are you alright?" he questions quietly, "She didn't hurt you too bad?" he continues.

"Yeah," I nod, "I'm alright. You don't have to do this, Jake." I add.

"My mom just hit my baby sister," he narrates, "of course I do. You're, well, you know, and it's not your fault whether mom and dad think it is or not." he reassures quietly.

Tears quiver in my eyes and I blink against them, willing the drops away. I don't want to cry now, it'll just freak him out more than he already is.

"I don't care if you're AS or not, Jacey, you're my sister. I don't really get love as much as people like you do, but I always want to make sure you're safe which may be the closest I ever get." he confesses.

"Thank you, Jake." I croak.

"Of course."


	4. A Proposition

I leave the house for school a few minutes before everyone else in the house gets up. Dad goes to work at around four a.m. so he's not a factor but if I waited to leave with the other kids I would have had to deal with my mother.

The building opens at six fifty a.m. and the walk is nearly forty minutes so I'm there just in time to not be standing outside alone.

It's quiet and the only sound is my shoes hitting the tiled linoleum floor and the occasional shifting around inside the classrooms I pass where teachers are preparing for the day.

I reach my locker and twirl the lock a few times before actually putting in my combination. The AP biology textbook in my backpack puts up a fight as I try to pull it out and shove it into the metal cubby. I exchange that textbook for my sketchbook.

I put my senior schedule last year with the fact that it's senior year in mind. I only technically needed to take english and gym because I had already taken all the required courses to graduate. That meant filling the remaining six periods with things I actually wanted to for a change.

I ended up with AP English, gym, art, ceramics, shop, AP biology, anatomy, and lunch. School felt more like a summer camp than an actual high school all year which made my senior fever act up even more. I am more than ready to get the hell out of here and it makes my skin itch for freedom.

I put in four college applications and received acceptance letters from three of them and a wait list for the fourth. My first choice accepted me with a full ride on an academic scholarship and since I'm nowhere near my parents' good side it's really my only choice. Now all I've really got to do is graduate high school and I'm off to bigger and better places.

"Jacey?" someone says my name.

I whirl around to find my best friend, Lacey, stood behind me.

You heard me. Lacey. Lacey and Jacey. Our names may have been the only factor that drew us together when we were in elementary school but we've been best friends since then so it must have been enough.

"Oh," I huff out a breath, "Hey." I cram my anatomy textbook into my backpack and slam my locker shut.

"What happened last night?" she questions, "We were supposed to FaceTime and do the bio homework together." she elaborates.

Oh. Right. Well, I can't exactly tell her I had been off cuddling with some guy I had only met an hour prior, could I? I mean, I could, but that'd make me a social outcast and my life would be mostly over. AS people can only exist in the shadows.

"Sorry, Lace," I apologize, "I took the wrong bus home and was lost for like, three hours. It sucked." I explain, and it's not exactly a lie, but I definitely left out a few details.

"Oh," she shrugs, "Okay. Why are you here so early? Only I'm crazy enough to want to be at school at this time." she quirks.

"Me and the parents had a falling out," I reply, zipping my backpack up, "Didn't want to see them." I shrug my shoulders like the argument had been nothing when really it ripped me apart inside.

"Yikes." she remarks shortly.

My head bounces in a nod and I heft my bag onto one of my shoulders.

The day seems to drag on. English is boring and my biology teacher is out so I sit and do nothing all period. Anything I try to add to my blooming birdhouse in shop turns out lopsided so I scrap it all. I end up dropping the vase I had been working on in ceramics to the floor with a loud plop. So, overall, not a great day.

I'm at my locker after the final bell, rifling through my disaster of a locker for a notebook that has seemingly disappeared into thin air. When someone comes up and stands behind my locker door, I expect it to be Lacey waiting to give me a ride home. She can't always bring me home because she's involved in so many clubs and organizations but on the rare days she can I like to take advantage of it.

I finally find the notebook and cram it into my notebook, zipping the big pocket back up. She hates when I keep her waiting so I've learned to be quick. When I slam the door shut, though, it's not Lacey.

It's Sean Morrison, a guy I just barely recognize from our school's varsity football team. I had been to a few home games throughout my high school career (usually forced by Lacey) but I wouldn't exactly call myself a fan.

"Uh, hey." I say, turning back to the metal door and twirling the combination to lock it.

"Hey, it's Kacey, right?" he greets, leaning with one arm against the row of lockers beside him.

I roll my eyes and sigh internally. I can tell what's happening before it's even begun. This guy is the typical asshole trying to get laid and then walk off because that's how things are.

I remember Lacey's boyfriend from sophomore year. Danny Miller was a prick from the start but Lacey went ahead with it anyway. They got together and had sex when her parents weren't home. That was basically the extent of their relationship. Whenever either of their parents weren't home they'd get together and then slip away the second they could.

The only thing 'dating' means these days is that you're fucking someone you see every few days. Nobody goes on dates or just simply get together to watch cheesy movies. It's about sex until you both reach your prime and decide that marriage and a few kids is a good idea. There's nothing about love or intimacy in the formula for relationships anymore.

"Is there something you need?" I question even though I know where this conversation is inevitably going.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come by my house this weekend is all." he explains smoothly.

Right. It is exactly what I thought.

"Yeah, no thanks," I dismiss him, checking my bag to make sure everything is zipped up, "no offense but I'm above stooping so low as to fuck some guy who doesn't even know my name." I quip, stepping away from my locker.

"Come on, don't be like that." he tries, leaning away from the locker to stand straighter.

"Have a nice weekend, Sean," I say before actually walking away, "and it's Jacey, not Kacey." I call over my shoulder.

I check the parking lot for Lacey's car and see it's still in her assigned spot. She's sitting in the driver's seat, fixing her red lipstick in the visor's mirror.

"What took you so long, Carter?" she questions, jokingly using my last name as I throw myself into the passenger seat.

I slam the door shut and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Sean Morrison just propositioned me in the hallway." I say with little bravado, leaning my head back against the headrest and shutting my eyes momentarily.

"Did you say yes?" and, uh oh, Lacey sounds excited.

"What? No, he's a giant ass!" I sputter back.

Lacey pops the lid back onto her red lipstick and snaps the visor back up, sending me an 'you can't be serious' expression.

"So? He's hot and he's willing! I'm sick of not being able to talk about sex with you!" she whines.

"You talk about it anyway." I squint at her in annoyance.

It's true, really. The second she started dating Danny Miller it was all about sex and everything that goes along with it. I was there through the first time, the many times following that, the weird shit he wanted to try that she eventually went through with, the pregnancy scare, and the breakup. I listened through all of it and offered my advice (which she never really took) but never let myself get entirely emotionally invested. Talking like stuff the way she did always put a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I accepted a long time ago that what I want from a relationship is different than everyone else, but it's still kind of hard to have it thrown directly into my face.

"Yeah, but you have no experience to reciprocate back!" she huffs, sticking the key in the ignition.

We wait in the small traffic of getting out of the senior parking lot and onto the main road. She cranks some pop station on the radio and sings along to a few while I gaze out the window and try to figure my shit out.

"There's a party at Amber Valencia's house tonight and you're going with me." she says casually as we wait at a red light, blinker clicking on and off.

I groan internally. Parties have never really been my thing and I always drink way too much because the only real alternatives are dancing (which I suck at) and fucking someone in a backroom. I always go because, come on, Lacey is my best friend, I can't just leave her hanging. It's also her eighteenth birthday tomorrow and, although she keeps saying she doesn't want to do anything exciting, I can tell saying no to going will crush her.

"I take it you're not dropping me home, then?" I sigh, looking over at her.

"Nope," she pops the 'p', smirking over at me, "We're gonna get ready at my place."


	5. Clocks Can Be Dangerous

Lacey's got a pretty big family but her parents were both really young when they had most of her siblings so all three of them are either away at college or out of the house already. Her parents both do work that involves a lot of traveling so they leave Lacey home alone for months at a time. This particular month is one of these cases; they're away in Taiwan doing business. Her parents won't be home for her birthday this year and I can tell that she's using this party as a surrogate birthday celebration.

Lacey cranks her Spotify playlist the minute we get up into her room and she flitters around looking for clothes to wear. She extract a sleek black dress from her closet and holds it up to me with eyes rampant with excitement.

"Oh, no." I shake my head fast, suddenly realizing what she's implying, "absolutely not. No way." I deny.

"Come on!" she whines, "For your best friend." she pulls the typical 'sad Lacey' face and I sigh.

I stare for a few more moments, hoping she'll crack and let it go. When she doesn't I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes.

"Fine." I give in, holding a hand out for the hanger.

I strip in front of the mirror closet doors as she rifles around for something for herself to wear. Luckily I wore a black bra today so all I have to do is slip the dress over my head and struggle for a few seconds to zip it up.

It's form fitting, sure, but also flattering. The length comes to about mid-thigh and I can already tell the second I sit down it'll be right up my ass. Oh well, it does look pretty cute.

I run a brush through my hair, ripping through the knots that had formed throughout the day with reckless abandon. I even slick some eyeliner across my waterlines.

When I look back over, Lacey is wearing a red dress that is sexier than any seventeen year old should be wearing. Well, she'll be eighteen after midnight tonight, though, so I'm gonna let her live.

"Is there someone you're trying to impress tonight, Lace?" I tease, sitting down on her bed, and, yep, the dress definitely rides up.

Oh, well.

"Danny is supposed to be there." she says, downplaying the words as she sits in front of the vanity and straightens her hair.

"Danny Miller." I repeat, disbelieving.

"Yeah," she nods, not looking back.

"Are you sure getting back with him is a good idea?" I question, careful not to upset her.

"I feel like we left things unfinished, I don't know. I'm not exactly hoping he'll take me back, but I won't say no if he asks." she skirts around the conversation and I can tell that she's hoping Danny will ask just that.

Yikes.

"Just be careful, Lace." I let it go.

We pull up to the house party after it already started. Amber lives in a mansion like house including a round driveway. There are flashing multicolored lights and you can hear the roar of the party from out here.

I follow Lacey into the party and we head straight for the drink table. I start in right away; it's the only way I'm going to get through this party.

Lacey sticks by my side for a while. It's at least a half an hour before she spots Danny across the room and sends me a questioning look. I gesture his way in silent response and she takes off for him. They're both swallowed up by the sea of dancing strangers and I can already tell I won't be seeing her again anytime soon.

I take my drink with me upstairs as I wander the house. It's the type of house you could easily get lost in just trying to get to the bathroom. I take a seat in the hallway at a secluded part of the house that's so far the music is a dull throb beneath me.

"Well, what a coincidence it is seeing you here." a voice startles me from my drunken haze.

I squint to my left to take in the figure of none other than Sean Morrison.

Ugh.

"Hi." I hiccup, nodding my head.

"What are you doing all the way back here all by yourself?" he says, and something in his voice unsettles me.

"I'm not one for parties," I shrug my shoulders, taking another swig of my drink, "But it's Lacey's birthday tomorrow and I couldn't just say no." I sigh, my mouth moving on it's own accord.

Oh, shit, I'm pretty drunk.

"You want some company?" he suggests.

"Yeah, sure." I nod, and when he offers a hand to help me up, I take it.

We settle down on the bed of someone I don't know. I don't think anything of it when he shuts the door. There's tons of bedrooms in this house that I discovered during my exploration tonight. I huff and lean back, leaving a foot on the floor so I don't get dizzy.

The two of us chill for a while until he finally makes the first move. Well, it's not much of a move as it is a fully orchestrated movement to get me on my back and submissive.

He sits right on my waist and he weighs down on me like a ton. I don't realize what he's trying to do through the haze my brain is in until he's already started pulling up my dress. My heart freezes in my chest.

"What are you doing?" I demand, pushing his hands away.

"Relax," he shushes, "You'll like it." he adds.

"No, seriously," I'm a few baby steps away from slurring my words at this point, "Seriously, stop, Sean." I command, shoving him away as best I can.

He catches my arms and shakes me roughly, my brain rattling in my skull.

"Stay the fuck still." he hisses in my face, grabbing both my wrists with one hand and shoving the other up my dress.

I gasp in surprise and crane my head around, looking for something to get him off of me. There's an alarm clock resting on the bedside table and when makes a move for his wallet to get what I would presume is a condom I make my move.

It's only a few seconds and they go in brief flashes, the clock in my hand, bashing the hunk of plastic against his head, him hitting the floor with a loud thud, cursing as he goes. I jump up off the bed and the world tilts as I do but there's no way I'm letting this chance of escape slip through my hands.

"You fucking bitch!" he shouts as I stumble my way down the hall.

I don't stop until I reach the bottom of the stairs. I'm right at the edge of the party once more where multiple people will notice me kicking and screaming if some guy tries to drag me off. I straighten my dress and zip the side zipper all the way back up. I smooth my hair and yank the hem of it down to cover my ass all the way.

Making my way through the crowd, I briefly consider staying at the party for Lacey's sake. My eyeliner is running from tears I hadn't realized had formed and my hair is knotted, though, and there's really no way of fixing that at this point. I look like a trainwreck and feel like one, too.

I decide to leave.

I stand on the porch outside where it's more quiet. There are some people messing around on the front circular lawn but that's about it. I scroll through my phone's contact, trying to figure out who to call.

My finger scrolls past Hudson's contact and I veto it immediately. No way am I letting him see me like this. I land on Jake's and suck in a resigned sigh.

"Hello?" he answers, clearly having been asleep.

I check the time. It's already one a.m.

"Jake?" my voice wobbles when it comes out, dammit.

"What's up?" he suddenly sounds a lot more awake, bed frame creaking as he sits up.

"I'm really sorry for calling you so late," I begin, rubbing a hand down my face,"but I went to a party with Lacey and she disappeared and I just need to go home." I rush out, bracing for the fall out of an annoyed older brother.

"What's the address?" he says instead of a bothered snark and I let out a relieved breath.

I relay the address and walk around the circular driveway to sit by the curb, waiting. I scroll through the messages on my phone while I wait. There's one from Lacey from earlier today asking where I was and another from Hudson.

It's nothing too crazy, just an offer to get coffee tomorrow morning. He had sent it five hours ago and was probably already asleep at this point. I choose not to reply because at this point, I'm not up to seeing anybody, especially not someone I enjoy the company of.

I see dad's car pull a few minutes later with Jake behind the wheel. Mom and dad were asleep for sure by the the time I called so I'm not worried about seeing them tonight.

"Hey." Jake nods to me as I get into the car and shut the door.

"Thanks for doing this." I thank him, pulling my legs up to sit cross-legged on the car seat, uncaring if the dress rides up or not.

"What happened with Lacey?" he says softly as we pull away from the curb.

"She disappeared with Danny Miller thirty minutes in." I shrug.

"What time did you guys plan to go home?" he continues.

"Three. But, I don't know, something happened and there was no way I could wait two hours while she hooked up with her asshole ex-boyfriend in some poor girl's guest bedroom." I'm practically seething at this point and the liquor in my blood won't let me stop.

"Have you been drinking?" he questions, squinting over at me from the driver's seat.

"Course'," I roll my eyes, "that's what I go to parties for, Jay. Lacey hooks up with someone and I get wasted and we hobble our asses home in the wee hours of the night. I only go for her, usually."

"Jesus, Jace," he shakes his head but cracks a smile, "So what happened, anyway?" he presses.

Ugh, it's clear he's not going to just let this one go.

"It's nothing too serious, Jay, just some guy whose brain doesn't register the word 'no'. Don't worry about it, though, I clocked him in the head with an alarm clock. Hah. Clocked." I giggle slightly and roll my head.

Jake, being the sober being he is, obviously does not take this news lightly. He does a double take towards me and I point forward at the light we're stopped at.

"Light's green, buddy." I remark.

He rips his gaze from me and hits the gas.

"Who is this guy?" he says angrily, "Whose teeth do I have to kick in?" he continues.

"Don't worry about it, Jay," I shake my head, "I'm alright, really. I just didn't want him to bother me anymore. He won't try anything again, not after that." I shrug my shoulders again.

"Are you sure, Jace?" he checks and I bob my head.

"Right now, I am. Ask my tomorrow morning if you really don't believe me." I suggest.

We arrive at home and he helps me drag myself upstairs because my eyes are already drooping with exhaustion. He pulls my shoes off and throw a blanket over me, dress and all. I don't even care to take it off though, mumbling a slurred 'thank you' to my older brother and turning over. I'm out cold before my head hits the pillow.


	6. The Salsa War

The morning greets me with a splitting headache and an hour hugging the toilet bowl. Jake catches me in the bathroom and leans against the doorframe, shaking his head.

"Do you need an Aspirin for that hangover?" he says good-naturedly.

"Shut up." I groan once the vomiting stops.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and slump against the tiled bathroom wall. I run a hand through my hair and sigh tiredly. I should have just told Lacey to take me home.

"Are mom and dad up?" I question finally.

"They left for John and Tracy's wedding at six this morning." he explains.

"Good, good." I murmur to myself, rubbing my face with my hands.

"Listen, do I need to kick this guy's teeth in?" he says after a moment of silence.

My head snaps up and my brain fogs with confusion. What an odd shift in conversation. What the hell is my brother even talking about.

Then, I remember. That whole thing with Sean Morrison and the alarm clock. Right.

"No, it's okay," I sigh, "things just got out of hand but it's alright. Thanks, though, really, Jake." I pull myself to my feet on shaking legs and lean heavily against the edge of the sink.

Jake leaves the doorway and I stumble my way into the shower. I scrub the drool I had managed to slop onto myself throughout my drunken slumber and then pull the knots out of my brown hair with soapy fingers. It's a slow process but once I can finally run them through the strands with little resistance, I add conditioner and let it sit while I do my body.

I'm pretty shocked to find finger shaped bruises on my shoulders. I didn't think Sean grabbed me that hard last. Hm. Well, liquor will do that. It probably would have been a lot worse if I was sober.

I rinse the conditioner out of my hair and shut the water off. Jake had left a towel on the sink for me which I use to dry off and wrap around myself. I shuffle my way to my room, hair still dripping down my back, and search around for something to wear.

My phone starts to ring from where Jake must have plugged it in at my nightstand last night. What a nice brother, I really don't deserve him.

I check the contact name and nearly fall over when I read Hudson's name. I swipe the accept button despite my internal panic.

"Hey." I say, embarrassingly breathless.

"Hey, Jacey. I just called to see if you wanted to get lunch or something. You never answered my text and I wasn't sure if I got the number right." Hudson's voice filters through the speaker.

"Yeah!" I exclaim and internally kick myself, "I mean, yeah, sorry. I had a long, messed up night last night. What time works for you?" I smooth over my initial outburst quickly.

I don't want this guy to think I'm some of nutcase.

"Well, it's noon right now. Half an hour? I can pick you up." he offers.

My heart is doing somersaults in my throat.

"Yeah, sounds good," I agree, "See you soon." we hang up and panic mode initiates.

For some insane reason, I feel this need to impress Hudson. I've only ever hung out with him once but that whole day was a whirlwind. Hudson is like my key to a whole different world I didn't know existed. My entire life I thought I was just wrong and wired wrong for wanting the things I do. Along comes a guy that tells me it's not unheard of, that he identifies with me. He tells me I'm actually valid and if this were some twenty-first century teenagers-in-love novels I'd say I'm falling love with him. Sad reality, though, is that I don't know what love would actually feel like.

Anything pertaining to love, articles, advice, and what not, died along with affection. Does the fluttering my stomach does when I think about him mean anything? Maybe, there's no real way for me to be sure, not anymore.

I settle on jeans and a button-down. Can't really go wrong with that, can I?

I skirt down the stairs and whisk past Jake who's sitting on the couch with Kelly and Dylan watching cartoons. Looks like mom and dad put him in charge, poor guy.

"Where you going?" he calls as I shove my feet into my shoes; it's already twelve twenty-eight.

"Uh, friend, study." I sputter, hand slipping on the doorknob as I fumble my way out.

Hudson's camaro is just pulling up to curb as I stumble my way down the stairs. I slide into the seat beside him and he pulls away from my house a second later.

"So, crazy night, huh?" he hums, eyes on the road.

"You can say that." I huff out a breath, rubbing my hands over my arms.

"You look tired, too much partying?" he suggests.

I laugh.

"You could say that." I nod in agreement.

"You said something about it being messed up." he adds.

"Yeah. I don't know how high school was for you but parties start to suck. The only thing people do is dance, fuck, or drink. I always get so beyond drunk, like fall-down Lacey-needs-to-carry-me-home drunk. I suck at dancing and I don't think I can handle sex without the fuzzy stuff." I ramble on and on.

We come to a red light and stop. He looks over at me with an amused expression masking obvious concern.

"'Fuzzy stuff'?" he repeats, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, fuzzy stuff. Like twenty-first century teen romance movies, don't make me actually list stuff." I say, exasperated.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, "I'm just messing around." he nudges me and then steps on the gas when the light turns green.

We drive for a while, probably looking for a place to eat. He passes a Taco Bell and then a Wendy's and it becomes clear that, for some reason, this boy is trying to find a place that will impress me.

Lucky for him, I'm not that kind of girl.

"Hey, we can just get some burritos and chill, you know." I inform him as a Chipotle comes in view.

He looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and I smile big.

This exchange is how we end up sitting in the camaro, leaning back into the seats like puddles as we munch at the tortilla-wrapped goodness. We had ripped the top part off of the bag of tortilla chips and our hands meets when we both reach for one.

I pull back and he plucks a chip out, sending me a wink. I snort at his dorkiness. I dip a finger into the salsa cup and wipe it on his nose. His eyes cross as he stares down his nose to see the red dip.

"Excuse me." he says, faux offended.

"Oh, sorry, did I get you?" I reply, faux concern.

In a flurry of movement he shoves the chip bag off the center console so he can wipe two fingers covered in salsa across my lips and face. He settles back into his seat with a satisfied smirk and I lick my lips, trying to decide what to do.

I lean very close, midsection hanging over the center console so I can get right up into his personal space. I stop only a few inches from his face, and, with added stealth while he's distracted, dip my finger back into the salsa container so I can wipe it down his cheek.

He gasps in playful shock but I don't move away. We lock eyes and, in twenty-first century teenage-romance movie fashion, lean closer until our lips touch.

It's not fireworks like all those old books I used to read in secret back in middle school. It is nice, though, and it's everything I thought I had missing out my entire life. Kissing isn't a thing into today's society and wanting to do it is the last thing you want to make public.

His lips are soft and taste like salsa. My eyes had slipped shut long before and it's all a really pleasant experience. There is no pushing or shoving, no force behind it, nothing that will leave bruises the day after.

We pull back at the same time and I sit back on the car seat on my heels. He stares after me for a few seconds before his face breaks out into a grin.

"Well, that was nice." he remarks breathily, and, just like that, the ice is broken once more.

I've known for less than a week and feel like I've known him for years. I sit back down on the seat and pick my burrito back up off the dash where I had placed it at the beginning of the impromptu salsa war. I also pick the chips up from where they'd fallen when he shoved the back out of the way, eyeing him with a playfully incredulous look the entire time.

I place the makeshift chip bowl-bag back on the center console but there's a more considerable lack of space between us. We're not touching or shoved up against each other or anything but we're both leaning against the console instead of the doors like before.

The awkward charge in the air gone, I suddenly feel the need to elaborate about just how bad last night really was. I take a few more bites of the burrito before anything.

"This asshole from my school tried to rape me at a party last night," I say casually, dipping a chip into the salsa cup, "So, yeah, last night was pretty messy.

My eyes flick up to meet Hudson's and back down to the chip bag. The words seem to finally register in his brain.

"Some guy what?" he hisses.

"I was pretty drunk and he had propositioned me earlier at school, but, you know," I shrug my shoulder and bite my burrito again, "My blatant disinterest didn't seem to be enough so I had to bash his head with an alarm clock." I end the story with little bravado.

"Who-" he begins, "What the fuck. Who would, who was it." he speaks in stops and starts.

"You wouldn't know him, Hudson. I just thought it'd be something I should tell you, is that dumb?" I wonder aloud and he shakes his head.

"No, of course not. You can tell me anything, whatever you want. You just gotta get that this pisses me off. Some guy put his hands on you even after you said 'no'. That's messed up." he says, voice dropping a few steps below totally-pissed.

"I get it. It just shook me. I don't know. We don't really know each other but I think I really like you and I don't want this to fuck something up along the line." I ramble on before realizing what I'm even saying.

Oops. Hopefully, I don't drive him away.

"This doesn't change anything," he says firmly, "Promise." he meets my eyes with an intensity in his gaze and I find myself nodding in agreement.

"So, prom is in, like, two weeks." I say casually once more, shifting the conversation.

He hums back and then smirks at me.

"Oh, yeah?" he replies.

"Yeah. My best friend is dragging me along, and, going by the fact that she more than likely hooked up with her ex six ways to Sunday last night, she probably has a date. Which means I need to find one before I spend the entire night as a third wheel." I'm clearly hinting and he can obviously tell.

He just likes to leave me floundering, it seems. Bastard.

"Maybe I'll just have to pull the old tux out of the closet for a night." he shrugs nonchalantly but shoots me a mischievous glance.

"You're on." I agree.


	7. Cherry Garcia Fix

"What happened to you last night?" Lacey starts shouting down the phone receiver the second I click the green accept button.

"Hey, Lacey," I greet in response, sucking in a breath, "Sorry about that." I apologize.

"We were supposed to meet up at two thirty! Where the hell were you? The only reason I knew you went home is because Sean Morrison saw you leave! What kind of friend are you?" she shouts.

My blood runs cold and I'm suddenly struggling to swallow around a lump in my throat.

"S-Sean Morrison?" I stutter in lieu of an explanation.

"Yeah, Sean Morrison, the guy you hate. Apparently you don't actually hate him that much because, from what he told me, you had your hands all over him last night right before you cut tail and ran off. What, little virgin Jacey couldn't handle the heat?" she spits into the phone.

I have to take a careful breath before I lose my mind, or worse, start crying right there on the phone.

"Lace." I begin, then again, "Lace."

"It's my birthday, Jacey, and where the fuck are you? My parents aren't in town and I'm all alone for my eighteenth, some friend you are." she huffs, and, of course, there it is.

It had been obvious when Lacey told me a week ago that she really didn't want to do anything for her birthday she had just been saying it. I had a really reasonable feeling that she didn't mean it.

"Lacey. I didn't-I didn't just leave," I start damage control because really I'm not in the wrong here, "I had to." I stammer.

The real words that will fix this situation just don't want to leave my mouth. I know what I need to tell her, that Sean tried something, but they just won't come out.

"Oh, you had to, right. I bet you couldn't handle the burning embarrassment of having someone find out how much of a slut you really are. You play the blushing virgin act really well, you know that?" she continues, digging the blade in more.

I remind myself that Lacey is just angry and hurt but it's getting harder to stay objective.

"Clearly I'm right because normally you'd be up my ass proving me wrong. Listen, don't even call me back, okay? I don't want to hear your fucking voice right now, let alone see your face. Bye." she hangs up before I can get another word in.

I stare at the phone in my hand after moving it away from my ear. Lacey's smiling contact photo disappears along with the call screen and I don't know what do at this point.

Lacey's call had come in on the way back to my house. I hadn't known what to expect going into it but that whole charade was definitely not it.

"Who was that?" Hudson says from over in the driver's seat.

"Lacey." I croak back, swallowing thickly, "She wanted to know where I went last night, why I left." I state blankly.

"Oh?"

"I tried, I tried to tell her that Sean, you know. The words, they just wouldn't come out. She just kept ripping into me. I mean, I get it, today's her eighteenth birthday and her parents won't be home from their for another two weeks and I was so off this morning I just. Forgot." I confess quietly.

"Hey," he reaches his right hand out and takes one of mine, "It's not your fault." he murmurs.

"It feels like it is." I reply, "She's hooked up with so many guys, Hud, I don't think she'll get why I didn't want to with him unless I tell her I'm AS, which probably wouldn't help my case." I whisper back.

"If she's really your friend, Jace," he says, "she'll get it. She'll at least try."

I have to hand it to him, Hudson really is good at reassuring people.

"Maybe you're right." I nod my head sluggishly, unsure.

"Want me to drop you at her place instead?" he suggests.

I ponder over it. She made it pretty clear that she doesn't want to hear from me, let alone see me. Leaving this argument where it is, though, especially on her birthday, will probably destroy our friendship.

"Can we pick some stuff up from the store first?" I say sheepishly.

He smiles genuinely and nods.

I practically storm the Walgreens with Hudson in tow. I grab two tubs of Cherry Garcia (Lacey's favorite) and a tube of sour cream Pringles. I pick a few nail polishes I know she'll like and grab a bag of gummy worms on the way to the register. I fumble with my wallet and hand the cashier a twenty after she rings me up.

We pull up outside of Lacey's house ten minutes later. I get out and go around the front of the camaro to the driver's side window where Hudson is resting his elbow.

"Thank you for everything," I whisper, close to his face, "text me later."

I glance around for any nosy neighbors or stray kids before pecking him softly on the lips. His lips practically split in a grin that is wider than it has any right to be.

"You'll be great." he says and then pulls away, hand palm out in a lazy wave as he does so.

I make the short walk up to the front of her house with trepidation. The doorbell rings throughout the house when I press it.

For a while I think she's not going to come to the door. At last the door opens and Lacey faces me with a scowl. She's wearing her favorite pajamas, fuzzy bottoms with teddy bear print and a light cream t-shirt. Her hair is one step below nest status and she looks practically livid.

"What are you doing here?" she spits, crossing her arms.

"Offering ice cream," I hold up the Walgreen bags, "and an explanation." I add more seriously at the end.

She regards me for a few minutes without saying anything. Finally, she steps aside and lets me. Whether it's because she actually wants to hear what I have to say or because the ice cream will melt quickly in the May heat, I don't know.

She grabs two spoons from the drawer in the kitchen before I follow her up the stairs to her bedroom which is probably a good sign.

Neither of us say anything as she rifles through the plastic bags, pulling out the tubs of ice cream. She places a tub and spoon in front of me silently and waits until she's popped the lid off and taken a few spoonfuls out of her own before speaking.

"Explain." is all she says.

"Well. I." I begin with stuttering stops and starts, taking a deep breath, "I blew Sean off in school earlier yesterday. I didn't know he was going to be at the party last night. I wandered off after you got with Danny and settled in a quieter part of the house. He found me and said he wanted to chill with me which I was okay with but then he tried to fuck me so I smashed an alarm clock on his head and zipped my dress back up and called my older brother because I didn't want to bother you." once I start talking, the entire story spews out of me.

Her face shifts from expression to expression before landing on confusion.

"I don't get you, Carter." she states finally, "You go all the way through high school, no boyfriend or any random hookups, and I always assumed it was because no guy ever threw himself at you but this guy literally did and you, rather violently, turned him down." she speaks quietly but the malice before is gone from her voice.

She believes me.

"I don't think any girl would've been in for it," I shrug my shoulders, suppressing a shudder, "he grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me like a rag doll when I said I wasn't sure. Does that sound like the type of guy you'd have sex with?" I decide to skirt around the whole AS situation.

"Well, no," her eyes flick up to meet me momentarily and then back down to her ice cream.

She doesn't sound thoroughly convinced. I pull an edge of the neck of my button-up down to expose the black and blue marks.

"He left marks, Lace." I deadpan.

Her eyes widen when they land on the bruises. She leans forward and pokes them slightly, causing me to hiss in pain.

"Ow?" I push her hands away, "Do you believe me now?" I snark, letting my t-shirt go.

"Yeah," she nods, "I'm sorry about everything, you know, that I said. I didn't mean it." she says.

I sigh.

"It's okay." I accept her apology.

I know that she really did mean most of what she said, though, and that's what irks me. A lot of it can be explained away by the fact that I'm AS but I feel like the weighty conversation we just had is enough for today. It it, after all, my best friend's birthday.

"Movie marathon?" I suggests and her eyes light up.

"Only if we can watch that 21-C movie Mean Girls." she agrees,

I huff a laugh and roll my eyes.


	8. When The Kids Go To Bed

The days after Lacey's birthday fiasco are uneventful. I spend the weekend recovering from the hangover that follows me into the Sunday after and the sugar shock from all of the ice cream.

School on Monday is total bummer but it's not entirely boring. Well, crippling anxiety isn't the good kind of eventful, but it was less gray for a few seconds and more an explosive yellow. Like getting struck by lightning.

Seeing Sean in school ended up having more of an affect on me than I thought it would. I tensed up like someone struck me and I turned right into my locker. Lacey was standing beside me talking when it happened and she was super surprised to see my reaction.

"There's a bump on his head the size of a golf ball." she remarks almost proudly.

"Good." I agree once she gives me the okay that he's gone.

"You weren't joking when you said you bashed his head in." she snorts and checks me with her hip.

"Someone should tell his girlfriend that he's been making moves on other girls." I remark, disinterested.

Lacey and I had looked a little further into Sean over the weekend. Apparently, he has been dating the same girl since sophomore year: Natalia Greene. She's a vicious cheerleader with sharp edged eyeliner and red lipstick. I've seen her before and her and Sean do go well together.

"You coming over today?" Lacey inquires as I stuff my textbooks from the day back into my locker.

I slam the door shut and shake my head.

"No, sorry," I reply, zipping up my backpack, "My parents want me home. They're not particularly happy with me right now." I lie.

Well, okay. It's not exactly a lie. My parents really don't want to see much of my face at all lately, but that's not the reason I can't go over today.

"Damn," she remarks, "what'd you do?"

"Nothing like usual." I reply and she snorts in amusement.

I walk with Lacey until we reach the senior lot where I wave her goodbye. I walk the stretch to the outskirts of the campus and then a block away where Hudson's camaro is parked inconspicuously under a tree.

I throw open the passenger side door and shove my backpack to the foot well. He smiles goofily at me as I shut the door and, after a quick check for any stray students walking our way, leans over to peck me on the lips.

"Hey, you." I smile as he turns the key in the ignition and pulls away.

"Hey, yourself." he replies, pulling out onto the main road.

"What is it we're doing that you had to keep such a secret?" I inquire, leaning my head back against the rest and staring over at him.

"I didn't want to tell you unless it was a definite, that doesn't make it a secret," he retorts, rolling his eyes, "but, fine. Jose and his boyfriend, Rus, are coming to stay for a couple weeks, the AS kid I mentioned?" he informs me.

"That was the big secret?" I roll my eyes.

"That was the big secret." he confirms.

"Well, I'm ready." I announce.

"Really?" he replies, "I'm the only AS person you know." he says matter-of-factly.

"So? If they're half as dorky as you, I'm sure we'll all get along just fine." I tease and he reaches a hand over to brush all my hair into my face.

I look over from the passenger seat, entirely unamused.

"You're lucky there's no salsa." I state, moving the brown locks back into a semblance of order.

Hudson parks the camaro in the parking area under his apartment complex and I take great joy in riding the elevator up to his floor.

I will admit that I'm kind of nervous. What if other AS people aren't like Hudson? Well, just because they're AS doesn't mean they're regular people with their own personalities, right?

I decide that I really have no way of knowing how they are.

Following Hudson into his apartment and getting hit by the sight of two guys laying on top of each other nearly gives me an actual heart attack. They're just watching TV, fully clothed, one on the chest of the other, but it still gives a shock to my system. I still don't know how to react to open affection yet.

They look up when we come in but don't immediately move away like I probably would have.

"Hey, Hud." one says as we move closer to the back of the couch.

"Jose, this is Jacey," Hudson says to the one on the bottom, "Jacey, the one on the bottom is Jose and the leech on top is Russell."

"It's Rus, actually." the guy says rolling off of his boyfriend and sticking out a hand, "I will cut you, Waverley." he says to Hudson.

I've never shaken anyone's hand but it's not an outlawed act. It's mostly an old adult thing at this point, younger adults and college kids don't practice it much anymore.

I shove all that aside and shake his hand. He beams back at me once I do as if I've just revealed the secret to world peace.

"Oh, Hud, I see," Jose says from the couch, "This is the girl you couldn't stop talking about on the phone." he smirks and sits up, dragging Rus into his lap.

"Ha ha." Hudson rolls his eyes even as he burns scarlet.

I snort and shake my head. Yeah, I'm going to get along with these guys just fine.

We end up playing a very heated game of Monopoly on the coffee table. I get really into it and decline the offer of a beer when Jose asks.

"Trust me, whenever I drink, I drink way too much." and Jose laughs and laughs.

"This," Hudson gestures to Rus's multiple hotels on the Boardwalk space, "is total bullshit!" he throws his arms up.

"Pay up, bitch." is all the other says in response, leaning back and crossing his arms.

Okay, so not exactly the way I had been expecting to spend my night, but a night spent well all the same.

As the night winds down, Rus and Jose wander off to sleep in Hudson's guest bedroom. Rus wraps his arms around Jose's waist as they go and I find myself staring.

"Strange, right?" Hudson's voice startles me.

"What?"

"The whole openly AS thing. It's a shock, it always is," Hudson shrugs and downs the rest of his soda, "It's an adjustment but you'll make it faster than you realize." he reassures me.

"That's good," I nod as he sinks into the couch beside me, "They're really great."

"What about me?" a faux hurt expression clouds his face.

"Yeah," I brush a hand through his hair, "you're pretty great, too, I guess." I smirk.

A scowl crosses his face and he's on top of me before I realize what's happening. The sudden movement startles me and he sits back, triumphant, with his ass on my waist. The breath leaves my lungs and an irrational need to push him off overcomes me.

"Hudson." I force out, "This-he-" I stammer.

He must get what I mean because he makes a move to jump off. I grab his hand before he can, though.

"Wait," I pant, "He didn't kiss me, you know." I practically shove the words out of my mouth.

Hudson looks down at me and raises his eyebrows but I nod my head and he leans down closer. I can feel his breath on my face for a brief few seconds before ours lips meet. It's still for a second before I feel like I can finally breathe again.

I bring my arms up to brush my hands through his hair as he slides his down my arms. It moves from a simple kiss to a full on make out session quickly. I smirk against his mouth and he drags my arms up above my head. I let him hold them there as our lips moves together. He bites my bottom lip and pulls it with his teeth. I writhe under him and we both simultaneously reach for the the hem of my shirt when there's a snort from the kitchen.

The kitchen and the living room aren't separated by any walls so it's easy for anyone in there to see what's going on. Hudson jumps back from me, sitting back on my lap.

"Well, well," Jose smirks at us, holding a bottle of water in one hand, "I see what happens after the kids go to bed." he remarks.

"Ha ha." Hudson replies, shaking his head.

I cover my face, cheeks burning, and snicker to myself. What a ridiculous position to get caught in. Make outs don't happen in the real world; it's sex or nothing, there is no in between.

"How 21-C of us." I manage to say through giggles.

I look up at Hudson and he gives me an incredulous look.

"She's right, bro," Jose agrees, "I won't judge, though, you've caught Rus and I doing a lot worse." he shrugs.

Hudson groans in exaggerated agony as I wiggle my way out from under him and jump to my feet. Jose offers a high five (which is also a thing I've never done) and I smack his hand with a deep sort of satisfaction.

These people definitely feel like my people.


	9. Like A River

I end up shooting a text to Jake telling him that I'm sleeping over at Lacey's and actually sleep on Hudson's couch. He tries to give me his bed for the night but I'm firm and he eventually gives in.

Jose pokes me in the face, annoyed, at six fifty a.m. He points to my bag which is currently ringing with what must be my alarm clock. I groan and Jose wanders back in the direction of the guest bedroom, narrowly missing running right into a wall on the way.

I stumble my way to the bathroom and rake my fingers through my messy hair. I manage to style it enough so I don't look entirely like a trash monster and brush my teeth with a finger and some toothpaste.

Hudson is in the living room when I come back out.

"I don't have any clothes." I sigh, glancing down at myself.

My clothes aren't dirty or anything but I'll definitely get questions about why I'm wearing the same outfit as yesterday.

"Do you want to borrow some?" he suggests.

"If that's not too much." I say sheepishly.

He leads me into his bedroom, a room I've never been in before. It's tasteful and reasonably neat. There's a king sized bed and a dresser to the far wall situated next to a sliding door closet.

He pulls open a drawer and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants which he tosses onto the bed. He grabs a hanger from the closet and holds it up to me. He snorts and shakes his head.

"You're so smol." he snickers, but picks the smallest shirt he can seem to find, a maroon v-neck from the very back of the closet.

I check my phone and panic. I've got ten minutes until the late bell for homeroom.

"Hope you don't mind." is all I say before I'm stripping out of my clothes.

I yank the v-neck over my head and the sweatpants over my hips. The t-shirt isn't too bad but the sweats slip down almost immediately. I look to him helplessly. He ends up tying the string as tight as it would go which works well enough.

"Thanks." I say, following him back to the living room.

He grabs the camaro keys from a key bowl on the kitchen counter, checking the time real quick.

"Looks like I'll have speed." he smirks.

Speed he does, but we get there just in time. I peck his lips and poke him in the nose, shouting a thank-you over my shoulder as I run off. Luckily, my homeroom is on the first floor so all I have to do is sprint. I make it with a minute, literally to spare.

Lacey eyes me as I slip into my seat beside her.

"Who's clothes are those?" she questions immediately.

"My brother's," I lie easily, "I forgot to do wash." it's a shitty excuse but she doesn't push.

We end up at the mall after school. Prom is less than a week and we both waited until the absolute last minute to get dresses. It's a good thing neither of us are looking for anything too extravagant or we'd be totally screwed.

The mall is forgiving because before we know it, Lacey and I are in a fancy dressing room with multiple dresses to try on. The sales associate doesn't seen to understand what 'we don't need any help' means but she eventually disappears when someone else enters the store.

I pull the v-neck off and shimmy out of Hudson's sweats, leaving them in a pile of clothes. I had remembered to wear non-provocative underwear for once and a plain black bra which is probably the best to try dresses on with. I'm debating which to try on first when I notice Lacey staring.

She's clutching a lilac dress and staring at my shoulders. I follow her gaze and remember the bruises. She startles when she notices me looking at her and goes back to unzipping the back of the dress.

I slide into a sequined purple dress and zip the back of Lacey's so she can zip mine. Hers look really good, the lilac is a good color on her. The dress I'm in is a total sparkly nightmare which has me vetoing the idea immediately.

"No way." I laugh.

We try on a few more. The last one in my pile is a baby blue one. The color reminds me of Hudson's eyes that are as blue as the river he's named after. It's flowy and reaches about knee length when I pull it on. Looking in the mirror, I can tell it's probably my best bet.

I slip my phone out and snap a mirror picture, saving it and sending it Hudson's way with a question mark as the only explanation. Lacey catches me in the act and he narrows her eyes at me.

"Did you just take a picture of yourself?" she questions, crowding me, "Who'd you send it to?"

I know what this is about. She wants to know who my prom date is, whether I have one or not. I shouldn't have pulled my phone out. Now all she's going to focus on is figuring out who it is.

"Nobody." I play the innocent act.

"Why'd you take a picture, then?" she argues.

"I may not get this one but I like it. I wanna remember it." it's a lame excuse but I've got nothing better.

"Mhm," she hums, "Is there some secret guy I don't know about?"

I shake my head.

"No, Lace," I roll my eyes exasperatedly, "Don't be ridiculous. What do you think of this one?" I direct the conversation to the topic of my dress.

She stares at me a few moments longer by sighing, smoothing her hands down the skirt part.

"The color looks nice on you," she remarks, "and it's a nice material. I think you should get it." she decides.

"Really?" I reply.

"Yeah, it's gorgeous." she nods firmly.

"Okay," I nod, taking another glance in the mirror as my phone buzzes in my hand, "I think you should get the lilac one. The first one you tried on, it's really nice." I tell her.

"Yeah?" she hums, brushing a hand down the first one's fabric as I check my phone.

I have to fight the grin that wants to break out on my face at Hudson's response. 'Beautiful, guess I'll have to find a tie to match ;)'. What a dork.

"Yeah." I repeat to Lacey, locking my phone and tossing it onto the pile of rejected dresses, "Who's your date, anyway?" I question.

She whirls around and fixes me with such a satisfied look that I'm almost entirely sure who it is already.

"Danny." she informs me, "The subject...came up on Friday." she adds.

I roll my eyes as I crane my arm around to unzip the back of my dress myself.

"Of course it did," I snort, unzipping Lacey's dress for her.

We both dress into regular street clothes and go to the counter to pay. My dress ends up being a clearance item by some strange stroke of luck. A hundred dollars is a lot but it doesn't exactly break the bank. Lacey's is just shy of two hundred and we both wince as we fork over the money. We leave the mall and I actually feel pretty okay about everything.

Prom night may not be something straight out of a 21-C movie, but it'll surely be something.

Lacey drops me home and I go up to my room. I hang the dress in the back of my closet the minute I get there, not wanting my mother to catch sight of it. It's not like I think she'll do something but I don't entirely trust her not to anymore.

The thought of my entire living situation at the moment makes me realize that getting ready for prom at home base probably isn't the best idea.

I decide to put in a call to Hudson.

"How was shopping with the infamous Lacey?" is how he answers the phone.

"Stressful," I huff, laying back on my bed, "she grilled me about my date. Hard to worm my way out of that one but I managed." I explain.

"Nice," he laughs, "so, what's up?"

"Well, listen," I begin, sighing, "My parents-home in general, really, it's a mess. I was kind of thinking about it and I'm actually wondering if I could just get ready for prom at your place? If not, it's fine."

"No, that's totally cool," he assures me, "I didn't realize things were that bad." he adds in a quieter voice.

"Yeah," I blow out a breath, "I mean, I haven't spoken to my mom in days. Prom is, like, a mom and daughter thing, right? I don't think she wants anything to do with it. Not until Kelly's prom, anyway. Kelly's normal." I add the last part without realizing it.

"Hey," Hudson says sharply, "you're normal. I'm normal. Jose and Rus are normal. We were all just born a few decades late." he says forcefully.

I accept his words.

"You're...you're right," I agree, "Sorry. Family has always just sucked for me." I spit the word 'family' like it's poison.

"Same here, babe." I can practically hear the sad smile through the phone.

"Thanks, Hud," I murmur, "Have a good night."

We hang up and I hold the phone to the chest. I should take the wrong bus more often, the first time it lead to something pretty neat.


	10. A Tie To Match

I'm freaking out at Hudson's apartment only a few days later.

I'm both really excited and extremely nervous at the same time and my hands shake so much that I have to take a break from doing my makeup so I can calm down. Hudson is sitting on the toilet seat beside me scrolling through Twitter as I have my minor meltdown.

"You okay?" he says, noticing my lack of movement.

"My hands just won't stop freaking out and makeup doesn't do itself." I blubber.

He smooths a hand down my shoulder and I lean into it.

"Relax. You're fine. Tonight's gonna be fun." he promises.

"You're right," I shake my head and stare myself in the mirror, "I'm just freaking out for nothing."

I pick up the eyeliner pencil with a much more steady hand. Jose and Rus are in the kitchen making cupcakes for a reason I am not aware of, old pop-punk leaking out of the stereo stationed on the kitchen counter.

The makeup ends up being good, anyway. I don't go crazy; I'm not into killer cake-face. I let my dry hair down from the clips I put it up with and start to straighten it with a crazy amount of attention.

My hair is naturally wavy, especially after a shower, but I prefer it straight. I iron the strands out until my entire head of brown hair is sleek and shiny.

Hudson goes to check on the current state of his kitchen while I disappear into his bedroom. I had laid my dress out on his bed the minute I got here a few hours ago and it still looks the same. Baby blue and shimmery but nothing too glamorous.

I strip and leave my clothes in a pile. I slip into the dress and stand in front of the standing mirror by the closet. I see him in the mirror as he walks in, coming closer until he's right behind me.

"Can you zip it?" I say softly and he complies, pulling the silver metal zipper up my spine.

"You look beautiful," he says right by my ear and I feel my cheeks heat up, "I got you something." he informs me next and before I can ask what he's talking about, he's clasping a silver necklace chain around my neck.

There's a single ring on the necklace chain and it takes a second for me to realize what it is. Hudson's class ring. There's a dark blue stone in the middle; he was born in September. Three letters are engraved in cursive on the inside of the band, HJW.

"Hudson James Waverley." he says softly, answering my question before I can even ask it.

"Thank you." I whisper, turning in his grasp so I can press my lips softly to his.

He's already in his tux minus the jacket and tie. He pulls a silky baby blue tie out of his dresser and holds it out to me with a pleading look.

"I still don't know how tie them." he confesses, slumping back onto his bed.

I take the strip of fabric and get all the way into his personal space. It's as if he's reading my mind because he moves back enough for me to straddle him properly.

I wrap the tie around his neck and set to tying it. It's a beautiful blue like my dress and it's nearly a perfect match to his eyes. I don't know how he managed to find it but he did a pretty damn good job.

"You're lucky my brother sucks at tying ties," I say lowly, pulling the end through a loop, "but you better learn because there's no way I'm tying it on our wedding day." I add, breath ghosting across his lips as our eyes meet with a new kind of intensity.

It was a joke, obviously, but there's a certain charge the air in the room takes on that makes my statement feel like more. He clearly feels it too and neither of us break eye contact until I finalize the knot and smooth his collar down.

Clambering off of him is a lot less sexy than climbing onto his lap was. I check the clock as he grabs his jacket. We need to leave to pick up Lacey and Danny soon.

Jose and Rus are covered in flour when we appear in the main apartment area. Jose lets out a low whistle and Rus practically trips over his own feet running off in the direction of the guest bedroom, shouting at us to not go anywhere.

"Damn, girl," Jose says, nodding in approval as he looks me up and down, "How 21-C." he remarks when his eyes land on Hudson's class ring.

"Pictures!" Rus proclaims, skirting to a stop in front of us.

"Rus, come on." Hudson groans.

"What? It's not like her parents are going to be taking any." he says, anger flashing across his face momentarily.

Oh, right. Prom is typically a huge family kind of thing, the night where the daughter comes sweeping down the staircase in a stunning dress and the mom cries while she snaps photos. I'm missing out on that, right now. Just another thing my family has neglected to give me. Angry tears form in my eyes and I blink stubbornly; there's no time to re-do my makeup.

"Hey." Hudson grabs my arms and pull me to the side, shielding me from the couple's view with his body.

"I'm sorry," my voice is watery, "I don't know what's wrong with me." I add, annoyed at myself for getting so upset over something so dumb.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he murmurs, brushing hair out of my face, "you have every right to be upset but tonight is about you, not them." he says firmly.

"Us." I say very quietly.

"Us." he agrees.

"I'm okay," I sniff and fan my face with a laugh, "We're good. Let's take some pictures."

Rus snaps a bunch, probably more than necessary. There's the typical one everyone takes, side by side and not touching because, in our culture, that's seen as affection which is a huge no no. I mostly take this one to satisfy my inner mom voice, the one that pushes me to hide my AS nature and just be normal, dammit.

We take more, though. Hudson puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close. I place a hand on his upper chest and Rus snaps a picture. Hudson shoves his face into my neck and I laugh loudly. Snap. I shift a little so I can place a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his cheek. Snap. Rus even gets a picture of Hudson slipping a corsage onto my wrist and me pinning a flower to his lapel.

Rus is about to put the camera down but I stop him.

"We need a group one." I say and his face lights up.

It takes some maneuvering but he manages to prop the camera up and set a long enough timer that it gets all four of us together and smiling.

"You two kids have fun, now!" Rus calls as we head down the hallway to the elevator, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" I laugh as the elevator doors close.

"Your friends are great," I say, leaning against him, "but you're better." I add and smirk when he snorts.

I give directions to Lacey's house and ten minutes later, we're outside her house in the camaro. I have to get out anyway to let them into the backseat so I click clack my way up her front path in my ridiculously impractical high heels.

I ring the doorbell and wait. To say Lacey is surprised to see me on her front door is an understatement. She was supposed to pick me up from her house ten minutes from now but I figured surprising her with Hudson and the camaro would be a lot more fun.

"Who's that?" she says, looking straight past me at the idling car in the street.

I turn and look, too.

"Oh, him?" I shrug, "He's nobody, just our ride." I reply.

Lacey smacks me on the arm with a 'you crazy bitch' expression on her face.

"I knew you had a date!" she calls over her shoulder as she disappears back into the house momentarily, "Knew it!" she continues when she reappears with none other than Danny Miller, lilac tie and all.

He smiles at me cordially but we don't exchange many words. We're not exactly friends, more people who just happen to go to the same school as each other.

They pile into the back seat of the camaro with minimal difficulty and, before I know it, we're headed off to prom.

"So, are we going to pretend like you didn't totally lie to me when I asked if you had a date?" Lacey pipes up, unable to hold back any longer.

I smirk over at Hudson who shakes his head at me, mouthing the words 'you bad girl'. I look back at Lacey and smile.

"I wanted it to be surprise and well," I look from Danny and back to her, "what a surprise it was."

"How did you even meet him, Jace?" she continues.

"Well, it all started when I took the wrong bus." I say, glancing at Hudson out of the corner of my eye, "he helped me get home."

He's snickering silently, shoulders shaking minutely, clearly amused by the current conversation.

"That is certainly a detail you neglected to mention within the excuse you gave me!" Lacey exclaims, poking me in the back of the neck.

"It was worth it to see your face." I admit and she huffs but I can tell she's not really angry.

We pull into the senior lot at the high school. Assigned spaces don't apply on nights like dances so Hudson has no problem picking one and parking.

I help Lacey out of the backseat, her legs shaky from the twelve inch heels she's wearing. Obviously, I'm exaggerating, but they're ridiculously high.

Lacey and Danny make their way toward the main doors ahead of us. Well, Danny walks and Lacey wobbles, holding onto the blond boy like her life depends on it.

Hudson raises his eyebrows at me but says nothing. He offers me his elbow which I take. We pretend it's to help me walk in my impractical shoes, but we both secretly know it's just so we can touch.


	11. The World Has Strayed

I can hear the music pumping all the way from the front lobby. They take our tickets at one of those folding white tables and let us in. The gym doors are propped open and there are multicolored lights flashing across a dance floor.

I'm already overwhelmed.

"Did I tell you that I've never been to a school dance?" I lean in to whisper to Hudson.

"No," he laughs, "I only went to prom, too, though." he adds.

Stepping into our normally drab gymnasium is like entering a different world. There's loud, bass heavy pop music pumping from large speakers and flashing lights. There's even a disco ball.

We hit the snack table first and I don't even attempt to be some frilly girl that doesn't want to eat. I even shove a pretzel into Hudson's mouth who bites down on it hard and narrows his eyes at me.

"I already checked," I'm practically shouting over the music, "There's no salsa." he smirks at me.

"We'll see." he shouts back and it sounds like a promise.

There's a giant, cliche bowl filled with red punch. I use the giant spoon and fill a cup for myself and then Hudson. We both down it pretty quick and refill it before I realize what the taste is.

Sure, it's fruit punch.

Emphasis on punch.

"Ah, shit," I sigh, "It's spiked!" I inform him.

He laughs and shakes his head.

"I'm cutting you off right this second." he commands, taking the cup and placing it on the table.

The night drags on. I feel like something's missing before I realize. The music. It's fast song after fast song after fast song. The people on the dance floor party on and more than half the girl have already removed their heels, walking about the gym barefoot.

There are no slow songs at proms anymore.

In a time before, a long time before me, proms meant spiked punch and pretty dresses and slow dances where you leant against a special someone.

"I know what you're thinking." Hudson announces after we sit down on one of those foldable metal chairs they lined the outskirts of the gym with.

"Oh, really?" I hum, moving so our knees are touching, "Enlighten me."

"There's no slow songs." he says, practically reading my mind.

"I'll give it to you, Houdini." a small smile falls upon my lips.

"I went without a date my senior year," he says, "all my friends had dates but I obviously wasn't into it. You know what dating means to everyone."

"Yeah." I nod.

"Well, there was this nagging in my head, I couldn't figure out what it was until I got home." he brushes a hand down my face and then startles, looking around as if he's remembering where we are, "Anyway. I remembered this 21-C movie I saw about high school. They had prom and there was this huge scene with a slow dance in it. It wrecked me for a little while, how far the world has strayed." he finishes the story.

"I have a lot of those moments," I murmur over the music, "but lately it's been easier, I don't know why." I tease, bumping his shoulder.

In a different time, we'd probably be holding hands or making out under the bleachers. Times have changed, though, and we missed out.

Our student council president Bridget Wright gets up on stage a little while later. She's holding a plastic gold crown and silver tiara and a white card in her hand. She smiles brightly before speaking into the microphone.

"It's my pleasure to announce your final candidates for prom king and queen," she announces, voice booming throughout the gymnasium, "for queen we have Daniella Burgos, Ashley Harris, and Cassie DeJesus. For king we have Steven Murphy, Matthew Warner, and Sean Morrison." my breath catches in my throat and seeing Sean join the other five on stage doesn't make me feel any better.

"Can I get a drum roll?" Bridget requests, and the drummer of a garage band from our school obliges, "And your 2099 prom king and queen are-"

Bridget pauses for dramatic effect and the entire crowd seems to be holding its breath.

"Ashley Harris and Sean Morrison." there's an uproar of applause at the reveal and I sit completely still.

"That guy," I point at Sean on stage, a fake gold crown being bestowed upon his head, "He was the one." I tell Hudson, knowing he'll get what I'm referring to.

Hudson meets my eyes with simmering fury on his face.

"I'll punch his face in," Hudson says very seriously, "just say the word."

"Put a lid on it, sauce boy," I brush a hand down his arm and check that no one is watching, "it's okay. Promise."

Hudson calms down after a few moments and then sends me a funny look.

"'Sauce boy'?" he repeats.

"Yeah," I gesture to his face and eyes, "I could see the simmering anger in that head of yours, like sauce on a stove." I shrug.

"My God, you're such a dork." he jokes.

We finally meet up with Lacey and Danny again toward the end of the night.

"Where have you two been? I don't think I saw you on the dance floor once!" Lacey exclaims, wobbly more than before on her feet.

Oh, yeah, she's definitely had some punch.

"Oh, just some dark corner." I joke, helping Danny lead her out the front door of the school.

Danny sends me a thankful look as I help settle her into the back seat of the camaro with him. She's not too drunk, though. I watch in the rear view mirror as she scrolls through the photos on her phone, showing Danny the good ones as he smiles encouragingly. I can tell he really doesn't care, though.

We drop Lacey and Danny off at Lacey's house. She removes her heels the second she steps out onto the street, holding onto my shoulder for support as Danny goes up to unlock her front door.

"So what are you gonna do with the rest of your night?" Lacey wonders aloud as I lean against the open passenger door, standing in the street beside her.

"Go back to his place." I say and immediately realize my mistake.

Lacey's eyes widen to the equivalent of saucers.

"Oh," she draws the word out, "I see, you're gonna go back to his place." she nudges me hard in the ribs with her elbow and I roll my eyes, cheeks flushing.

I take her by the middle and push her gently into Danny's waiting arms.

"Have a good night, Lace." I call as he helps her stumble her way up to her own house.


End file.
